


Stone Heart

by StarsGarters



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Art School, F/M, Gargoyles - Freeform, Recovery, Romance, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 06:00:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8653546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarsGarters/pseuds/StarsGarters
Summary: Once upon a time there was a girl who had a broken heart and she met a gargoyle who mended it. Forgive me for a work of utter indulgence. I wrote this a long time ago and I need to revisit this hopeful, romantic world while my real world is awash in uncertainty and turmoil.





	1. Chapter 1

Adela Westwood stomped into the Balsom State Historical Cemetery and glared at the blue jays cheerfully chattering in the massive conifer trees. “What’s the point of going to an early morning discussion group if everyone is either hungover, snoring or won’t participate anyway? I’m going to talk in a normal volume in _discussion_ group and I don’t care if they drank enough to kill a horse last night." What a waste of time. Drinking was for the weekend in her opinion. "And Professor Merrel’s breath always smells like stale coffee and death.” She kicked a fir cone as hard as she could and ran her hands through her messy dark hair. She couldn’t even find a rubber band.

The events of the last few months ran through her mind in an unstoppable loop of anxiety and self-deprecation. The sudden death of her grandparents had knocked her world off its axis and just when she had caught her breath, everything wobbled sideways again. She ruminated, each nasty, neurotic thought leading to another nastier one.  

Her former fiance, Jeremy, had decided that he’d much rather screw a random stream of babbling idiots than be with her. They had to be idiots to sleep with him. They couldn’t be any smarter than she was. She glowered and sulked.  

The only reason she’d applied to Balsom in the first place was because of Jeremy and his insistence that they’d be blissfully happy together there. He had been recruited for the Balsom track team. When she was awarded a scholarship, nothing was stopping them from a glorious cotton candy pink fluffy future. “We’ll be together forever baby. We’ll get married just as soon as I graduate. You’re the only one for me.” He looked deep into her eyes and promised, over and over again. 

She had walked in on his latest conquest and confronted him. Bile-black, venomous words dripped from his sneering lips. “You’re so boring, Adela. And fat. I can do a lot better, I just didn’t know it back at home. You’re such a clingy downer and you’re horrible in bed. The only reason I didn’t dump you earlier is because I was sure you’d kill yourself.”  She didn’t regret throwing that lamp at him. She still felt stupid and blind for believing in him.  She was so far away from all her remaining family and friends. She rubbed her temples and kicked another pine cone. 

One of these days, she'd stop calling herself stupid and useless. As the months went by she’d almost started believing that. It was so easy to sink back into the inky-black sludge of self-pity and doubt. 

She headed towards her refuge, the grandiose tomb of Miss Mildred Bannock, one of the last great industrial heiresses.  The massive marble mausoleum was built into the very mountain that loomed over the Balsom campus. A mass of Greek columns framed Gothic arches and a set of florid bronze doors engraved with nymphs and satyrs guarded Miss Bannock’s remains. It was horribly tacky and overblown, the result of too much new money trying to establish prestige and grandeur. Adela was charmed by its extravagance and sentimentality. 

Her favorite feature was the massive winged gargoyle perched over a puddle of mossy, putrid water that was once intended to be a reflecting pool. The figure was made of a snarling lion sitting sphinx-like, with scaly dragon features, like a curling pointed tail and relaxed wings at its sides. It was finely carved in light silver grey marble, screaming with impotent rage. The creases and folds of fur and scales were deftly chiseled and the claws were polished to a soft gleam under the grime of years.  

Adela tossed down her patchwork backpack at the base of the gargoyle, kissed the stone figure on its rear haunch leaving a red lipstick print and climbed up on its broad marble back just as she had done every non-rainy day for the last year.  “Hello Gruesome baby, did you miss me? I know you’re not stepping out on me. I should date more statues. You’re very stable.” She lay on her stomach on the twice-life size lion’s back, kicking off her scuffed thrift-store Mary-Janes.

“What the hell am I doing, Gruesome? I can’t be just another starving artist covered in charcoal and paint. What am I even doing here now? Did I even deserve that scholarship? Am I just wasting my time? Should I just be an accountant instead of whatever I’m going to do with this art thing?” She twirled a lock of hair around her finger. “I’d probably end up losing some one's money with the way I do math. ‘ _Oops! Sorry Mister, I don’t know what happened to your money. Maybe I didn’t carry the tens column...’_ God, that would be be a total disaster.”  

Adela chewed on her ragged charcoal-stained cuticles and bitten-to-the-quick fingernails, worried a hangnail back and forth until it bled. It was a terrible habit, especially when she was deep in thought. Adela flicked a bead of blood off her finger and it landed on the shoulder of the gargoyle, a dark red splotch on the weathered stone. She felt compelled to squeeze a bit more out of the stinging wound and doodled her initials lazily. 

“There’s got to be more to life than this... maybe I should travel, apply for one of those study abroad options. I’m never going back there, it’s not home without Gran and Papa .  There’s nothing to do there for me now, except be the girl who got dumped by her golden-boy prick of a fiance. I don’t know Gruesome. I’m glad you listen to me. Not that you have any choice in the matter, I suppose. ” 

She rolled over, looked at the vapor trails crisscrossing the clear blue sky and sighed, “I guess I just wish I had a destiny, a sense of purpose. Or just some excitement!  Whine, whine, moan, bitch and bellyache. I suppose there’s always the next chapter. Shut up Adela and just do your work. I know, I know.”  She put in her ear buds and listened to music more dreary than her mood,  not noticing that her bloody mark was glowing faintly orange and warm to the touch. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

The following afternoon was relentlessly sunny and the melodramatic bronze doors gleamed softly under their patina of tree pitch and grime. Energetic squirrels scampered and scrabbled about the the forest floor looking for food.

“Hello Gruesome!” Adela dropped her backpack in the usual place and climbed carefully into her perch, balancing a paper cup full of hot tea. “I’m really glad that class is over. I am SO tired from studio. Is it a bad thing when you can’t smell the solvents anymore? I’m probably brain damaged already.  As usual, I was the only person talking in our Art History group, but I had a really great discussion today with the GTF about chapel mosaics and the idea that they were really early forms of royal propaganda to educate the masses about the link between the ruling classes, God and _what the holy hell is that!?_ ”   

She had almost set her cup on what looked like a patch of skin, complete with tiny downy hairs and a few freckles. It was exactly where she had dotted her bloody initials the previous morning. Adela reached out a cautious, curious hand and gently touched the odd patch of flesh, pressing harder as it yielded. It was warm, damp and the cracked stone glowed faintly orange.  

“What the hell? Gruesome... What are you?” she whispered and drew back her hand in shock as a ridge of stone crumbled, revealing more skin. Adela’s heart beat so hard it felt like it would leap out of her chest and she dropped her cup with a splash on the ground.  

“Oh god, is there a person trapped in there? Can you hear me? HELLO?  Or something... bad?” She rapped on the stone with her knuckles. “Oh crap. What should I do? Who would even believe me? Oh! This is so EXCITING! Okay Gruesome, I’ll be right back, I’ve got to go get my camera! And a witness!”  Adela clapped her hands in excitement and bounced in place, her hair flying.  She rushed off to her apartment, then had to double back for her backpack. 

“I’ll be right back Gruesome! I promise!” She leaped over brambles, gravestones and tattered floral tributes, laughing in hysterical exhilaration, headed to her nearby apartment as fast as she could run. 

Adela returned with her backpack and her panting roommate Marie in tow. Marie’s long hair was dripping wet and sudsy. Adela was shouting about magical gargoyles and cemeteries, only pausing for gasps of air. “Look! Look! There’s almost a whole arm now! Oh my god! Marie! Look!” 

Marie indulged her frantic roommate and took a close look where Adela was pointing. She crossed her arms and glared. “Are you on drugs? Look, you can’t just get wasted and drag me out here. I still have shampoo in my hair, you jerk.”  

“But right here! Can’t you see the stone chipping off? And there’s SKIN underneath it! Here!” Adela poked at the patch of skin. “It’s even soft and warm and I think that’s a freckle!” She poked at it again, even getting close enough to sniff it curiously.  

“There’s nothing there. NOTHING. It’s just a dirty old piece of rock.” Marie tromped off, muttering about mushrooms and moving in with her boyfriend next year. 

“I’m not crazy Marie! I’m not on drugs! This really is happening!” Adela called after her roommate and poked the well-formed bicep emerging from the stone. “I’m not crazy, I’m really not. Well even if I am crazy then I’m going to see this through anyways. I’ve got my pepper spray and I’m sticking this out tonight.” More stone fell off, revealing a portion of a neck, tendons taut.

* * *

Night fell and  Adela’s normally limited patience was running razor thin. She was exhausted from the adrenaline rush. A hint of a strong stubbly jaw was peeking out in the moonlight as well as a span of broad work-hardened shoulders.  She gnawed on a granola bar that tasted like sweet cardboard and put on her jacket. 

“Gruesome, can you get ON with it?” She reached up and prodded his skin, ran her fingertips along the stubble and probed for a pulse. Her eyes widened as she felt a pulse throb beneath her touch. She shivered with anticipation of the unknown. “Whoa... you are alive, really alive in there!” 

Adela hesitantly scraped at the edge of the marble to expose more of Gruesome’s face. “Screw it.” She grabbed a stone from the putrid reflecting pool’s edge and began tapping gently on the gargoyle’s head with her makeshift mallet. The stone began crumbling quicker as she tapped, soon exposing a set of curved human lips flushed with the pale rose of life and framed by a brown short stubbly beard.  Adela brushed her dirty fingers off on her shirt and pressed on the lips, and pried them open to see what was inside.  She was vaguely disappointed to find only human teeth, ordinary pearly stones set in pink gums. The jaw closed with a snap. She yanked back her fingers and squawked in surprise. 

“Water...” came a whisper, dry as desert sands. Adela scrambled for her water bottle and squirted a small amount on his lips. He licked the moisture off and whispered, “More...”  Adela put the nozzle between his lips and he suckled at the water, dribbles cascading down his chin. “My thanks, Adela.”  

Adela dropped the water bottle on her foot in shock. “Wait a minute? How do you know my  _ name _ ?!” She picked up the bottle and dug in her backpack, and pulled out an old bandanna. She dampened it with water and began to clean off the grey dust that clung to his skin, hands trembling. 

His lips curled in a small smile while she daubed at them like a mother cleaning off an infant’s messy face, “You’ve nested on my back and spoken to me often. Mostly about your hopes, dreams and a certain Professor Merrel that you wish to have gutted.” His voice was slowly growing in strength, the accent unrecognizable to her ears.

Adela flushed a deep red and sputtered, “You heard me? You heard… everything?” 

“You are the first person to speak to me since my transformation, Adela. Your presence has been a salve to my mind and I have looked forward to your visits. I counted the moments until you returned and hated the rains that kept you from breaking my endless, monotonous existence. Now,” He paused and Adela gave him another draught of water. ”I thank you for my freedom.” 

“I didn’t do anything.” She continued cleaning his body of the dust, taking her time over his broad and well-defined shoulders, occupying her nervous and trembling hands with the task. 

“Not so. You anointed me with a sacrifice of your own blood.  Your life-fluid broke my curse. I am returning to my true form and I owe my life, my freedom and my eternal gratitude to you, my lady.” 

Adela’s jaw hung open and she sputtered, “No freaking way. That was just a hangnail, not a blood sacrifice. I didn’t open a vein!” 

He smiled wryly, “Well, my transformation is indeed taking a very long time in exchange for your small sacrifice. Still, I can speak, I can taste and I think I can smell... _oh yes, oh yes_... If my eyes were free then I would weep! So I thank you again, sincerely. We are bound together now and I shall devote myself to you and all those dreams you whispered in my stone ears. However I fear the world has changed more than I suspect.” 

Adela stepped back, “Okay, that’s just nuts, crazy talk. You’re not my _anything._  But I have questions, a LOT of questions actually. Like why can’t my roommate see you? Can anyone see you but me, because that means you’re a hallucination. Oh god...what if I really am going crazy?” She rubbed her temples.

“I do not know. I do not know much of anything, I’m afraid. I can remember floating particles of memory like motes of dust. I think my name was Gideon. I was a stonemason living on the southern coast of Albion. It was a very rocky country, studded with boulders and quarries. A country made of stones, built from the bones of the earth.” More of the crust fell from his face exposing an ear and locks of dusty grey-shot brown hair. “I remember the smell of the sea, the salt in my pores.”  

Adela crouched close beside him and listened attentively while gently prying off more of the stone. “Did you have a family, Grueso... I mean, _Gideon_?” 

“No, I was alone, far too busy with my craft to court a wife. Perhaps it was a blessing that I was used to solitude in life and kept my own company.” He sighed ruefully. “I surely regret taking my last job. The last commission that I was hired for was for a very rich man who decided to cheat me out of my wages. I recall shouting at him that he mated with the shepherd’s flock and that he was wearing very stupid red shoes and he raised his fingers up and chanted a nonsense phrase at me. All my muscles seized up and my hair stood on end. My vision dimmed and the vile man rapped his knuckles upon my forehead and laughed.

‘You did do lovely work Gideon, but your rates are far too expensive for my tastes. I can’t have you threatening me with those huge dirty hands. You’ll make a wonderful addition to my ever growing collection of statuary, you’re utterly bestial. Oh don’t worry, you’ll still be able to see, hear and feel to a degree, but you will be trapped in there for all eternity. Well maybe not all eternity, but I doubt you’ll be able to convince a virtuous woman to love you and anoint you with her blood of her own free will, especially when you’re hoisted atop the roof of my new chapel, far out of reach. So farewell Gideon, I’m sure I will forget your name eventually.’  I never saw him again. I cursed his memory daily, until I forgot  _ his _ name and my anger dulled to acceptance.” 

“I overlooked the chapel garden for what must have been decades. I watched the kitchen boy dump rubbish into a heap until he was a grown man, then he was replaced by a new child. I watched that child grow up again.”

“I slept. I slept for years at a time, not noticing whether it was summer or winter. My only companions were the dastardly pigeons with their sharp skittering claws, cooing in my ears, nesting in my mouth, slathering my body with their fetid excrement!  Damnable pigeons! They could sense somehow that I was not all stone and they flocked me, to torment me in my imprisonment. How I wish to wring their feathered little necks. I do not lie when I tell you that when I am free that no pigeon shall be safe within my grasp!” His lips curled in a wicked sneer. “Fluffy beady-eyed rats of the sky!” Adela stifled a snort of laughter. 

“When I opened my eyes after another very long sleep to escape those vile birds, I was surprised to see that the garden was now a city street, paved with cobblestones rutted by wagon wheels. Over the decades I watched those streets change from markets to slums and back again. I slumbered until the horses changed into curious smoke belching carriages and the air grew murky with smoke and soot.” 

Adela continued to listen while prying off more stone crumbles from Gideon’s face, cleaning dust gently away. “How did you get to Balsom all the way from Albion?” 

“One day I was awoken by my face smashing into the street below. There was fire in the sky and people panicked in the street. It was very exciting and I had a new vantage point, right at knee level! I had the dim hope that someone might actually speak to me or touch me or even acknowledge my existence. That was not yet to be and my flickering hope died with the fire consuming the city.”

“After the explosions ceased there was a very grand party with dancing, flowers and bits of paper flying. The people laughed until tears flowed and climbed under the table clothes to sneak affection. Knee level was quite fun that day!” He grinned and the motion shattered more stone. She could now see long eyelashes poking through the dust. 

“A few weeks or months or years after, I lose track of time so easily, I was startled awake by ropes winching me up into a transport truck. There was a curiously dumpy woman with bright red lipstick, a fur coat that dusted the ground and a tiny hat with an enormous white feather.  “That gargoyle thing shall go over my reflecting pool at the mausoleum. What a beastly creature! Horrid really, but they do call it a masterpiece, so careful! Careful! Don’t chip off that ear! Get it up on the truck and then I have to go to see a dirty little man about some fantastic mosaic for my butler’s bathroom floor.” 

Adela laughed at his imitation of Miss Mildred Bannock’s haughty voice. "So you met the heiress. I was wondering how you made it all the way here.” 

“Yes, she was a very shrill woman. It was a relief to be in the hold of the transport ship with the rats and away from her dulcet tones. They installed me here at the cemetery to watch over that nasty pond for all eternity. Not a single person aside from the minister and the gravediggers came to her funeral, did you know that? Not a single person, not even the butler with the mosaic covered bathroom floors. They slammed those bronze doors shut with a clang and that was the end of Miss Mildred Bannock. “

“This was a pleasant new prison. There were squirrels to watch and those fantastic swooping and screeching blue birds chased off all pigeons. And there was you, Adela. You were the first person to speak to me since my transformation. You have no idea how much of a salve you were to my sanity, someone who would speak to me. Touch me,  _ kiss _ me, laugh and cry on my back. ”

Adela blushed very red and wrung the wet bandana in her fingers, “Oh god. This is  _ really  _ awkward. I am just about ready to die of embarrassment!” She stammered, ”I - I - I didn’t really touch you, not like that. Okay I did kiss you. I kissed you _ a lot. _  But I didn’t know that  _ you  _ were in there. Otherwise I certainly wouldn’t have been kissing your ass everyday! I just wanted to see if my lipstick would stay on the marble or not.” She buried her burning face in her hands. 

“Right now, I really hope you’re just a hallucination,” she muttered. 

“Oh and the crying, oh." After her break up, she'd spent so much time with a captive audience that she wasn't aware of. "I was a wet sobbing mess, I’m sorry. Um, that was a very bad time. I didn’t know that you could hear me...” She chewed on her finger, then crossed her arms in embarrasment. 

“Oh I could hear you and I hung on on your every word! I shall always listen to you, Adela. We are bound together forever by your kindness.” He dismissively sniffed, ”That boy was like an untrained cur rutting with random bitches in heat! You are nothing like those wantons.” 

“You are far too lovely of a young lady to have your affections toyed with so rudely. His betrayal was unforgivable! I vow that if that young Jeremy ever dares to make you cry again, I shall speak darkly to him about the perils of dark nights and treacherous paths.” He almost growled, low in his throat.

Adela stopped cleansing Gideon’s face and said very sternly, “Okay, STOP.  That is _not_ cool. You don’t know Jeremy. You don’t really know me that well and you’re NOT my parent or my boyfriend. You’re not my _devoted_ anything either! I’m not even sure if you’re a hallucination or not, honestly.” She snorted. “I might be passed out on the floor of my apartment with a head injury for all I know. Besides, I’m over him. Really. I am.” If she repeated that enough times, it might become true.

“Now hold still, I’m taking the last bit off your eyes.” She very gently wiped his eyelids clean. “Open your eyes.”

Gideon slowly, achingly slowly, cracked open his eyes. They were very pale silver grey, almost the shade of the marble which encased the rest of his body. He squinted in pain and grimaced at the moonlight. Adela scrambled for her rhinestone flecked sunglasses. “It has been a very long time since my eyes have seen, truly seen anything. Thank you.” The pink sparkly sunglasses looked comical against his face. Adela laughed nervously. 

“So if I bleed on you a little more, just a little, will it speed up this molting process?”  The idea of chipping off the rest of the stone was interminable. 

“I do not know. I would rather you not harm yourself to free me. You’ve done so much already.” 

Adela raised an eyebrow, chewed on her fingernail and paced back and forth, thinking hard. She stopped, smiled wickedly and picked up her smooth stone from the pool’s edge. “What if I just hit a little harder with this? We’re past all the delicate bits.” 

Gideon sputtered, “But, what, what if I shatter? Not  _ all  _ of the delicate bits are out yet!” Adela raised her stone above her head. “Wait,  _ wait, _ I don’t think that’s such a good idea!” He squeezed his eyes shut as she whacked the statue’s haunch with her stone. A large crack splintered out  from the impact and then a second.

Soon the gargoyle's haunches were spider-webbed with large cracks and Adela grinned, satisfied. “Did that hurt?” 

Gideon whimpered, “No?” He  winced in anticipation of each further impact as Adela continued to pound her stone down on the silvery-grey marble. Sweat beaded on her forehead and ran down into her eyebrows. Her mascara ran as her eyes watered from the dust cloud. She delivered one final blow and the marble shell groaned, shook and collapsed outwards like the petals of a blooming flower. Adela shrieked and jumped out of the way of the marble chunks, landing in a pile on the cemetery floor. 

“Are you okay Gideon!?” she called out, breathless. 

Gideon gasped, weakly trying to prop himself up but falling prone on his back. “I'd forgotten the feeling of the wind on my skin. This is GLORIOUS!” Tears streamed down the sides of his face, tracing muddy trails on his cheeks. His hands fluttered over the pedestal and himself, touching everything to verify that it was real and not a dream. “I am ALIVE!” He whooped with joy. “I am BREATHING! I am MOVING!” 

Adela took off her jacket and draped it over his moonlit loins. “You are also butt-ass naked.” 


	3. Chapter 3

 

“I have got to get you out of here before daylight.” Adela looked about the cemetery. “You can’t just loll about the cemetery, dangling all over the place. You’re going to get arrested.” Adela averted her eyes and helped Gideon upright. “Here, try very hard to sit up, there we go!” His skin was very warm and mostly coated in moon-lit marble dust, except the patches she had washed off before.

He was rapidly regaining his strength, but still was as unbalanced and wobbly as a newborn giraffe. She tied the arms of her jacket around his waist in a makeshift skirt. “I suppose you’re going to my place now.” She slung his long arm over her shoulder and tried her best to stabilize him, her hand slippery with dust.  “Of course,  _ my  _ hallucination has to be six inches taller than me and weigh two hundred pounds! Are you sure you didn’t  _ eat _ some of that rock?” 

Gideon laughed, “I apologize for both my nudity and inconvenience, Adela.” He bobbled and clung to her, catching himself before he fell. “I look forward to seeing your dwelling and I thank you for your hospi--!” He slipped and recovered as they slowly moved towards her home. “Your hospitality.” He grinned, pearly teeth gleaming in the moonlight and his hair flopped over his eyes. Adela blushed and nearly turned her ankle on a pine-cone. 

They staggered slowly to the front door of her apartment, sticking to the back alleys without raising any alarm, aside from the neighbor’s noisy dog who often barked at his own shadow. Adela leaned Gideon against the mailbox as she dug in her backpack for keys. “Okay be very, very quiet! Marie is a really light sleeper and I’ve already pissed her off once today or was it yesterday? Never mind, it doesn’t matter.  God, I’m so tired. I swear I could sleep for a year...” She glanced sideways at Gideon and he smiled wryly, her jacket tied over his hips in a makeshift skirt. _Hallucinations should not make me weak in the knees with just a smile_ , Adela thought, then she shook her head to clear cobwebs of thought.   

She fumbled the key in the lock and opened the door. “Sorry about that, I wasn’t thinking. I guess thinking hasn’t been a big part of this whole day. What am I going to do with you?” They entered the foyer and she shut the door behind her with her foot. She opened her studio door and sat Gideon down on her bed. She dropped her backpack in a heap on the floor. “Okay, we made it!” 

Gideon was wriggling his filthy toes in the avocado green carpet and bouncing gently on the mattress. “Your floor covering is so lush! You sleep on a pad of such softness...” Adela cocked her head to the side, bemused. 

“Wait until you see the bathroom,” She took his hand and slowly led him to her small bathroom, flicking the lights on. She turned on the shower, handed him a bottle of shampoo and a towel. “Okay, step in there with the water, rub a little bit of this in your hair then wash it out and then push this to turn off the water.” He boggled at the sight of running water. 

“It is a captive rainstorm!” He smiled and told her confidently,  “I do remember how to wash myself Adela, but never in such a lavish way. You truly live like kings in this age. What a clear silver mirror! Is this the waste bucket, for my eliminations?”

Adela wearily shook her head. “No, that’s the trash basket. You... eliminate in that water filled bowl there and then flush it away with the handle.” She demonstrated the flush and then yawned, “Look, just take a  shower. I’ll look for something for you to wear.” 

She left and Gideon undid the jacket, stepped in the shower and chortled with delight. He gargled the water and started singing a song that Adela couldn’t hear the words to. She searched her closet for something large enough to cover up her large guest.  The best she could find was a hot pink fuzzy bathrobe with a kitten embroidered on the lapel. He’ll probably thank me profusely for such a  _ decadent _ garment, she thought and hung it up on a hook. She glanced at him in the shower stall. The soap scum on the frosted glass obscured and concealed more than she would have liked. “Oh get a grip Adela.” She muttered and shut the door behind her. 

Gideon showered until the water ran cold and stood there until he shivered, enjoying the needles of cold water on his skin. He took his time toweling off as well. Adela was quite exhausted, but Gideon never wanted to sleep again. He didn’t know if he even  _ needed _ to sleep. He scarcely could believe that he was free and kept expecting to wake up encased in stone. 

The mirror was fogged over and touched it, wiping off the fog. He squinted at his face in the crystal-clear mirror. His eyes had changed color. He could remember that they were blue, they always had been blue as cornflowers, but now they were silvery grey. He ran his fingers through the grey in his walnut-brown hair, mostly at the temples but shot through the rest as well. He looked like his father now, or did he? He couldn’t remember his father’s face anymore. Tears ran down his face and he wept silently, staring in the mirror at a person he didn’t know.  

He saw the shocking pink bathrobe hanging behind him on the bathroom door and smiled through the tears. This was a lurid garment indeed, but he was touched by her kindness. He cleaned up his face on the towel before putting it in the basket with other the other towels. He dressed and played with the switch that made the room brighten and darken. “Marvelous!” he whispered. It was like a bit of the Sun was captured in a glass globe. He switched the light off and carefully walked into her bedroom. 

Adela was curled in a ball on her bed, snoring gently and clutching a matte black object in her hand. She looked so vulnerable and innocent while sleeping. He knew how much she hurt right now from her confessionals in the cemetery.  He gently pulled a blanket up over her shoulders, she murmured in her sleep, rolled over and dropped the object on the ground. He picked up the device and placed it on the desk next to Adela’s headboard. He brushed a lock of her hair from her eyes as she snored.  

Gideon went to the window, pulled back the curtains and gazed out at the pale fingers of dawn creeping over the treetops. He stood there, very still, watching the sunrise, listening to the sounds of a new world. A couple dressed in very tight clothing quickly walked by on the sidewalk and stared curiously at him. He smiled a great toothy grin and waved at them. They moved much more quickly down the street.  

He turned about and observed the walls of Adela’s room. There were very large drawings of nudes done with charcoal posted side by side with large pictures of sunflowers and what looked like a strange starry night. Metal canisters filled with drawing tools and palettes of brightly colored paints were scattered over her desk, next to shiny large books and a vase of drooping flowers. Those must be the Art History books that she complained so many times about. _They did look quite heavy for a woman to carry,_ he thought. He carefully picked one up and goggled at the exceptionally precise illustrations and the even typeface. He tried to puzzle out a few words.

Adela blearily opened her eyes when her alarm clock went off a few hours later. “Huhna-whatsa?” she mumbled, slapped the alarm and staggered off into the bathroom, shedding her dirty clothes in a trail on the floor. Gideon plastered his eyes on the page before him. “Marie, you are using up the hot water again!” she hollered and then crawled back into bed after dropping her wet towel. 

Gideon closed the book and said softly, “Did you sleep well?”

She sat bolt upright and shrieked. “OHMIGOD!” She floundered around the bedding, frantically looking for something. She snatched the pepper spray off the desk. “No way! There’s no freaking way. That was all a dream!”  She hugged the covers close to her chest. “Really, a really long and intense lucid dream.  _ Wasn’t it? _ ”

Gideon leaned against the window sill, the hot pink robe comically short and tight on his muscular body. “That’s what I keep dreading, Adela.” The fluffy robe did not close about his chest and barely covered him below the waist.  

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep, I don’t usually...” She fumbled for words. “We don’t know each other that well, um...” She fiddled with the pepper spray.

He looked wounded when he understood her nervousness, “It pains me to think that you could not trust me while you slept, Adela. You are my savior and my only link to this wonderful, strange new world. I would never violate your trust or knowingly cause you distress.” He smiled, looking into her eyes and her stomach lurched. Her face was burning with embarrassment again. She averted her eyes and looked at the floor. 

“We have to get you some clothes. You look ridiculous in that thing.” She gestured at the robe while staring at the floor. He turned back to the window, closed the curtains and averted his gaze for Adela to dress. “Do you want something to eat? I’m starving.”  She pulled her t-shirt over her head and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. 

Gideon thought for a moment, “I suppose I should eat, I don’t really remember what... hunger felt like.” He idly stroked his hand on the lapel of the bathrobe. “I will be pleased to eat whatever you provide.” He stared off into distance, lost in his fragmented memories. Adela went to the shared kitchen. Her roommate was awaiting her, ready to pounce. 

“You’ve got a guy in there. You were making enough noise, you little screamer. I thought you’d sworn off men for the next decade. Who did you bring home? Where did you meet him? Have you met his parents? Is he a douche-bag like Jeremy was?”  Marie munched on her cereal. “And I know you’ve been using my milk. I marked the jug the last time I used it.” She pointed her spoon at Adela. “Replace the milk.” 

“So if I have to replace it  _ Mother _ , can I use the rest of it up?” Adela ignored the pointed comments about her sex life. She shook sugary puffed cereal into two bowls. “Chad practically lives here without paying rent and I don’t lecture you about it. Even when he drinks the milk and I get blamed for it. ” _Be cool_ , she thought to herself, _no one knows about your reconstituted gargoyle problem_. 

“I worry about you, you goofball. You almost lost your scholarship crying over that jerk. You still avoid all the fun stuff on campus just so you won’t run into Jeremy. ” Marie crunched her cereal and drank the last of the milk out of the bowl. “And what was up with that trip to the cemetery yesterday? I almost went back to drag you to the hospital. You were acting freakier than usual and that’s saying something. ” 

Adela dropped a spoon into each bowl. “Sorry. That was... a performance art piece for a class. It didn’t turn out, so don’t worry about it.” 

“I don’t want to be a part of any of your weirdo class projects, you know that! Not after you talked me into getting coated with flour and rolling about the commons area last year. So, was it mushrooms or acid?” Marie chucked her spoon into the sink.

“Neither! It was just an art experiment. And I said I was sorry!” She walked back to her room carrying the bowls and pushed the door open with her foot. 

Marie hopped up from the table and scurried down the hall, sticking her head in Adela’s bedroom door. She grinned. “Well, hello there! I’m Marie, Adela’s roommate.  _ Nice _ bathrobe. Gotta love that kitty on the pocket. Must have been a  _ fun _ night. What’s your name?”

“MAARIEEE!” Adela hissed, “This is my  _ private _ room!” She set the cereal bowls down on her desk and the spoons clattered in the bowls. 

Marie ignored her indignant outburst and pushed her way in. She sat on the bed, leaning in close to Gideon. “So what’s your major? Where are you from? Are you a student? You look a little old to be a student. Did Adela offer to show you her drawings? They say she has talent. How did the two of you meet?” She propped her chin on hands and smiled winsomely, looking him up and down. “You look like you work out. A lot.”

Gideon weathered the storm of her rapid fire interrogation and looked at Adela for direction, “My name is Gideon. I am from Albion. I am not a student. Adela’s drawings are lovely. We met in the cemetery. I have worked, yes?”

“Marie is just  _ leaving _ . Don’t you have a bio paper to write?” Adela shooed Marie out of the room, catching her by the elbow.

“Man, he is really stretching out your bathrobe.” Marie whispered loudly. ”Tell me he’s a part of your art experiment too! Draw some of those large format nudes for me, okay? Oh Adela, he’s a very hot foreign rebound, but isn’t he a little old for you? ”

“You have no idea.” Adela pleaded, “Now, please, can I have a little privacy? Please?”

Marie winked broadly, “Oh say no more. Just keep it down in there and promise me, no crying. I have to say, I’m a bit jealous and I expect a full, detailed, report. Carry on!”

 


	4. Chapter 4

Gideon carefully tasted the food Adela brought him. The milk tasted thin and the overly sweet spongy pellets were unfamiliar to his palate. He ate it out of obligation but felt no desire for any further meals. _Perhaps my innards are still stone_ , he thought, _maybe I am only flesh on the outside_. 

He flipped though the books she had given him to look at while she went to acquire clothing for him. She had measured his body parts and the oddly familiar light touch of her small hands was a comfort. They laughed together when she measured his feet. “So your shoe size is freaking  _ enormous _ . I’ll see if I can find something in that size.” His inseam was another story. He held the tape for her and she tried to not look up his robe while stammering. 

She wrote everything down in her sketchbook and told him,  “Okay, stay here and for God’s sake, promise me you won’t talk to Marie.” He gave her his most sacred solemn promise and vowed to be silent. “You take everything so literally!” She seemed exasperated as she left in a hurry.

He focused on the words in front of him, but the characters were strange and his patience was strained. Perhaps it was the goggle-eyed cat staring at him from the pocket of his garment that irritated him. He put the books back on the desk and picked up a sheet of crumpled paper on the floor. It was a sketch of the dying flowers in the vase. He smoothed out the thick, even paper, aghast at the thought of discarding such wondrous material. Not even royalty wrote on such material in his time and it was crumpled all over the floor. He picked up another ball and smoothed the wrinkles out.

Adela returned and found him drawing with a pencil on a stack of wrinkled paper. “I would have gotten you some new paper if you had asked me, Gideon.” He shook his head imperceptibly. She unloaded her bag of second-hand men’s clothing. “What are you drawing?” She glanced over and caught her breath. His rendering of the view outside the window was spot on, down to the textures of the shrubbery with fluid lines and a confident hand. “That’s wonderful... I thought you said you were a mason, not an artist?” 

“These were my tools as a mason, the same as yours as an artist,” He spread his large, work-roughened hands over her small paint-stained ones and wove his fingers into hers, “And I have observed so much over the years.” They both looked at their entwined fingers and Adela was the first to slowly pull away.  

He picked up a pencil. “Your drawing tool is marvelous, so smooth. I used a piece of silver wire clamped in wood for my drafting, but I much prefer this.” He put down the pencil and set aside the drawings, tucking the robe over his thighs. “What did you find for my garb?”

Adela grinned and held up a very large, very loud plaid flannel shirt. “Fashion show!” she chirped. She handed him the shirt and pants. “I think these will fit. I refuse to buy underwear at thrift-stores on general principles, so it’s commando for you until we can get to a store.” 

She laughed at her words and shook her head. “Sometimes I think my mouth just runs and runs without any input from my head.” She flapped her hands at him and then chewed on her fingernail, “Go. Go try them on. Holler if you... need any help.” Thoughts of an indecent nature bubbled up and she squashed them down.  

“Adela, Adela, stop thinking about him like that. He’s a magical freak and you cannot get involved with someone that strange, this fast. You’re just, having a bit of a rebound. Yes, that’s it. You’re the first girl he’s spoken to in hundreds of years, of course he’s going to be polite, attentive and devoted.” She muttered to herself and paced the floor. Her fingers itched to explore more of what she had felt in the dark last night, pressed up against her body in the night. She covered her eyes with her hands and sighed, “I need a walk, coffee and a very cold shower.” 

In the bathroom, he hung up the robe on a hook and slipped the shirt over his arms. It was very soft and very bright with threads of red, green and blue. This whole age was so brightly colored with none of the subdued vegetable-dyed tints of his time. The pants were faded blue with yellow stitching, and they fit loosely over his frame. He bent his knees experimentally and opened the bathroom door. 

Adela regarded him in his new clothing, “You look like a Halloween lumberjack. I have terrible taste in men’s wear, we’ll have to go back and get you better outfits. Here, let me fix this,” She fastened his buttons on his shirt like it was his first day at a new job. “You’ll give the old lady next door a heart attack if you walk around with this open. Who knows, she might like it.” Her hand lingered on his chest and she looked up at his face. She coughed nervously and spun him about, looking at her choices. “You’ve only forgot one thing, it’s called a zipper.” She gestured at the crotch of his pants and demonstrated on her pullover. 

“Oh. I wondered why the garments of your time had breezy vents.” He grasped the zipper pull and tugged upwards, very slowly. “Well, that’s quite effective, though the teeth worry me I admit.” He smiled and spread his arms, awaiting her approval. “Am I well clad?” 

She nodded and got some shoes out of the bottom of the bag. “Slip-ons. No fasteners needed this time.” He put them on and smiled at her. Her room seemed claustrophobically hot and small. She sputtered, “Wanna go for a walk? Maybe hit up the mall for some... undergarments?”

* * *

 

“I still do not understand, Adela, why you would not want to wear these wonderfully soft and colorful garments  _ inside _ your clothing.” He peeked inside the waistband of his jeans. “These  _ boxers _ are quite comforting and the colors so bright and cheerful.”  A pack of young girls tittered as they passed on the sidewalk. 

“Well, you can wear them alone inside. But trust me: you need to wear pants over them when you’re out in public or you’ll get more attention than just the giggles.”

Gideon looked askance at her, but dutifully nodded. “I trust you with my life Adela.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Can you stop with that? It makes me uncomfortable. I’m not used to so much gratitude from a guy.” They walked in silence, under the trees. He was taller than she was and his stride ate up the distance. She had to quicken her pace to keep up with him.  “So, I’ve got studio and life-drawing for most of the day tomorrow. Do you want to stay at my place or come with me?”  

Gideon contemplated this. “Would Marie be at home with me all day?” He wrinkled his brow. 

“Yep. She sure would. You’d have her total attention.” Adela smirked, she knew she was teasing him. 

“I would very much like to see your studio and school.” He paused, “I’m not avoiding Marie. She’s very inquisitive and I fear I would end up telling her the truth about many things.” He looked at his feet. “That could cause you distress. I doubt she would understand that you freed me from my marble prison. There is much that is not normal about our meeting.” 

“That’s true.” She looked up at the sky. “But I suppose you’re the excitement that I was constantly wishing for. Be careful what you wish for, they always say.” She grinned at him. “Do you want to eat anything, yet?” 

He shook his head and hooked his thumbs on his pant pockets, imitating a gesture he had observed on the shopping trip. “No, I still have no hunger. Or other related functions.” He sighed, “I am sorry to cause you to spend your meager funds on my clothing, I am a tremendous inconvenience.” He slouched dejectedly.

Adela reached up and punched his shoulder, playfully. “Oh stop that. We’ll find something for you to do. And you’re not so bad. You have your good points. You’re quiet, excessively polite. You’re curious and obnoxiously respectful. You’re certainly easy on the eyes...” She trailed off and coughed to cover her slip. “So don’t worry about it.” 

Gideon brightened at her words. “Thank you Adela.” He paused, “Should I hit you on the shoulder too, now?” 

She smiled and shook her head. “Oh please don’t. You’d knock me into the next day.”  

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

Sunday morning, Adela woke up when she heard a lawnmower fire up outside her window.  “Stupid Chad, must be trying to make up with Marie... Too early...” She tripped over Gideon’s bedroll, blearily stumbled to the window, and her jaw dropped. Marie was showing a shirtless Gideon how to work the lawnmower. She was wearing a flowery sundress and large sunglasses. His knuckles were white with concentration and he grinned as he pushed the loud machine.  Adela threw on her bathrobe and ran outside. “MARIE!” 

“OKAY NOW YOU PUSH IT UNTIL YOU GET TO THE EDGE. GOOD. NOW BACK UP AND GO THE OPPOSITE WAY! NICE! KEEP GOING!” Marie shouted over the lawn mower’s din. “OH HI! SORRY WE WOKE YOU UP.” Adela grabbed Marie’s elbow and lead her to the porch. 

“What are you  _ doing?  _ He doesn’t know how to do that!” Adela gestured frantically at Gideon. 

Marie picked up her iced drink and made a dismissive gesture. “Oh he’s FINE. He isn’t even sweating in this heat! He could be one of those marble garden statues. I’d much rather have him than a gnome standing around getting dusty. ” She drank a sip. “And if he’s going to be staying here in my parent’s rental, he’s going to have to pitch in. Look, he’s a little slow, but he’s doing great. He even avoided the shrubbery.” He was doing quite well, moving with confidence and smiling. “Next, we’re going to weed the flowerbeds and possibly power-wash the driveway. GOOD JOB! KEEP GOING!”  Marie smiled with all her teeth. “He’s very sweet, but not all there. Not at all. He’s like a lost puppy. You are going to keep him right?” 

Adela sighed, “I don’t know. I just don’t know what I’m going to do with him.” 

“Well it’s not like he just dropped out of the sky or hatched out of an egg. It seems like he has some brain-damage or amnesia or something like that. He’s got to have some family or friends, right? WATCH THE DAISIES!” 

“I don’t think so. I’m pretty damn sure that I’m the only person he’s got.” It was a frightening and humbling thought. She’d been so used to thinking only of herself that she wasn’t sure if she could take care of another person right now, let alone a magically reconstituted gargoyle. She watched him move the lawnmower much more confidently around the lawn. 

He laughed in joy at mastering the loud machine. After he stopped, Marie shut off the mower. Gideon exclaimed in the too loud tones of the temporarily deafened, “Good morning Adela! Marie has shown me much of your home and its marvelous contraptions! This one devours plants! Amazing!” 

“Just don’t put your hand in there. It will eat your fingers.” Marie chimed in, nodding rather patronizingly.  “Now, come over here.” She handed Gideon a garden trowel, an adz and a hand rake. “You know what these are?” 

Gideon gripped the trowel with a firm certainty, muscles clenched in his arm. He flipped his wrist, and caught the trowel by the handle again. He smiled softly, and looked up at the girls through his eyelashes. “Oh yes. I know what these are. Where do you want me to dig?” His sudden self-confidence was strikingly attractive and Adela stared back, her eyes wide. She gnawed on her fingernail thoughtfully. 

Marie caught him by the arm, “Let’s visit the backyard now. I’ve got some planters in dire need of weeding. Adela, you might want to get dressed now.” Adela gritted her teeth in frustration, as she watched Gideon walk away, the light catching in his hair.  She headed inside for yet another long cold shower. 

* * *

“Okay, everyone in! Come on, find a seat, you zombies. It’s not like you haven‘t done this before. God, it’s too early. Where’s my coffee?” A short man with an unruly beard shouted at the sleepy students shuffling into his classroom. “Oh and guess what? The model flaked out on us  _ again. _ So who’s volunteering this time? No, not you Sanders, I’ve seen you up there more times than I like and you just nap. I need someone who can hold STILL and upright, that’s it. Adela! You haven’t posed this term yet, get on up here.”  

Adela whined, “But I want to draw and I twitch. I can’t hold still at all. You know I’m a mess, Professor Merrel.” 

He snorted, “Yes, I’ve seen your gesture drawings. I know you’re a mess.” He looked over at Gideon. “What about your giant lumberjack friend? You. Yes, you. Can you hold still?” 

Gideon nodded. “Yes. I can hold very, very still.” He whispered to Adela, “Do you wish me to do this?” 

“Sure! Just hop up there on the platform. You don’t have to get naked or anything.” 

“Not yet anyway,” chimed in Professor Merrel, smirking. “We pay for that.”

Gideon stepped up on the platform in the center of the room and stood in a relaxed stance, arms at his side. The class snapped to attention with a flurry of newsprint spilling over the top rim of drawing boards. 

“No, no. BORING.” Professor Merrel hopped up on the platform and adjusted Gideon’s arms and legs into a more dynamic posture. He grinned, “It’s like playing with a life-size action figure.” He patted Gideon on the back and said, “Now freeze. Turn to stone.”

Adela choked on her tea and coughed violently. A classmate pounded her on the back as  she tried to breathe. “Gah! I’m okay, I’m fine. Thanks!” Gideon watched from the corners of his eyes and stifled a smile.  

Three hours and countless sketches later, Gideon hopped off the platform, scowling at the wasted paper on the studio floor. A beaming Professor Merrel clapped Gideon on the back and looked up at his face. “You were awesome up there. You know you do get breaks whenever you need them right? It was like you, just stopped breathing. Are you some kinda yoga master or something?” He shook his head. “That was just awesome. Do you want to do it again? Like every day of the term? I’ll pay you!” He pressed his hands together in a gesture of prayer.  

“Shall I be disrobing for these future sessions since payment is involved?” Professor Merrel nodded.  Gideon looked over at Adela, she smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “I agree to your terms, Professor. ”

“What’s your name?”

“Gideon the Mason.” 

Adela sprang up to Gideon’s side. “Gideon Mason. He’s visiting from Albion for a while. Staying at my place.” 

“Oh fantastic. So I know who to flunk if he doesn’t show up, then.” Professor Merrel smiled nastily and left to critique other students’ work. “So Saunders, I know for a fact that the model didn’t move so much as an eyelash the whole session, so why does your drawing appear to have epilepsy?” Adela winced in sympathy. 

She reached up and set her hand lightly on Gideon’s flannel clad shoulder. “Let’s escape while he still likes me.” She smiled up at him so sweetly that Gideon’s heart ached, certainly that part of him was no longer stone. He nodded assent. 

Gideon hoisted her awkward drawing portfolio case on one shoulder and offered her his other arm with a gallant, dashing smile. “May I escort you to your dwelling, lady?”

With a quirk of her eyebrow, Adela dropped a small curtsy and took his arm. “But of course!” 

Professor Merrel dryly said, “You’re both so cute I’m about to vomit.” He heaved a bit of chalk and it whizzed past her ear.  “Oh and Mr. Mason, don’t forget to bring a towel, otherwise you’ll get charcoal dust all over your backside and we wouldn’t want that. It’d spoil your overall aesthetic appeal.” He shooed them out of the classroom and went back to critique. 

On the walk back to her home Adela guiltily looked up at her escort, “You don’t have to do the modeling thing if you don’t want to, I don’t want you to feel obligated on my behalf. I know you’re going to be really good at the whole standing still and just looking really incredibly attractive...” She mumbled and trailed off, leaning against his side. ”You don’t have to.”

“Adela,” He sighed. “I am delighted to have employment. Your world is bewildering to me at the best of times. I try my best to not look like an axe-stunned sheep with my eyes boggling out of my head at each new sight. Did you know that the night is never completely dark? There are lights every where, drowning out the stars. Even the smell of this age is different, although I could do without the smoke from your automobiles.” He inhaled deeply, dramatically.

“Less manure, I bet?” 

“Yes, but especially piles of human waste laying all over the streets! And less sweat, wood smoke, dirt and the odor of garbage drifting about.” He laughed nervously, “I fear my head will pop with all this new knowledge, but I still want to learn more. I want to belong here with you.” 

He animatedly chattered, sunlight and tree shadows dappling his tan skin, “Even the people are fascinatingly odd. People are born with brilliant hair colors I never imagined! And they wear jewelry on their face, even the men! Women wear trousers and very, very short skirts and buckets of alluring face paint. There are so many  _ old _ people wandering around. Most people are much taller now, except for you Adela.” He took a breath and smiled, the breeze fluttered in his grey-shot hair. 

“Yup, I’m pretty short and compact. You could hitch me to the plow when the horse died.” She made a muscle with her free arm and then patted her tummy. “Still have to work on that Freshman Fifteen.”  Jeremy had once called her his ‘little heifer’, the jerk.

“I have no idea what you are talking about Adela, but that’s no great revelation. You are lovely, gracious, kind and so patient with my ignorance--“

“Okay, stop. Stop. You’re making my head swell.” 

“I apologize for your discomfort. I am happy to assist in both your studies and Marie’s yard duties. It’s only been a short time since I was released from my curse and these chores help me find my course, instead of wandering around aimlessly, unable to decide what form my life should take. Also, I would like to compensate you for your kindness in clothing me and letting me abide in your home. I will give you the payment for the modeling. It seems odd to be paid for standing very still, I do admit. ” 

“Most of the people here have no idea what they want to do with their lives, that’s the whole point of heading off to college to ‘find yourself’. They go backpacking across the country or leave to volunteer in a poor nation or they start smoking. You have a very original excuse for not feeling grounded, Mr. Magical Gargoyle-Man.” 

She leaned in closer to him as they headed home, the guiding rudder to his wandering ship. “And you don’t even eat, at all. Is that something leftover from the spell? You don’t seem to sleep either... Anyway, you’re less expensive to take care of than a stray cat and so much better to talk to.” She chewed on her lip. “I like having you around. Everything is so fantastic when seen through your eyes. Your enthusiasm is contagious, I suppose. So you can stay as long as you like.” _With me_ , she almost said.  _Stay with me._

“Adela, I don’t know why I have no appetite. I have no hunger... for food. Food seems to sit in my craw like a... stone. As for the sleep, I have slumbered for years and have no desire to ever close my eyes again. What if I fall asleep and this world vanishes? I fear I would truly go mad with despair. I endured the curse the first time because of my feeble flame of hope for salvation, but a second time... no. I would rather die than be encased in stone again, unable to move, condemned to observe and be silent.”  His animated face became solemn and haunted. 

“You’ll go bonkers if you don’t sleep. Just take a look at the grad students working on their dissertations. They’re like hollow-eyed academic zombies.” She squeezed his arm affectionately. “I’m sure you’ll get your... hunger back eventually. Maybe the curse just takes longer for some parts than others,” She paused and then asked, blushing,  “Are there any other parts of your body, that are not  _ functioning _ ?”

“I assure you that in all other respects, not related to food, I am quite responsive. I was not a monk in my day and I did mention those very, very short skirts. They are indeed, tremendously inspiring.”  They walked in silence back to her apartment, while Adela chewed on her fingernail, deciding which of her miniskirts to wear the next day. 

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

 

“Okay, after the gesture poses and the five minute ones we’re going to do an hour long sitting with our model here. Now everyone’s gone to the potty? Got their coffee, tea or liquid energy crack?” Professor Merrel gestured at the classroom exit. “Good, because nothing short of a fire alarm is going to make me open those doors. Pull the drapes, flip on the lights and Mr. Mason if you could hop up on the platform and remove that rather stunning pink bathrobe. Is that a kitten embroidered on the pocket? That’s just  _ darling. _ I’ll put the cash in the pocket.”  

Gideon stepped up on the platform, doffed his adopted robe and stood in the center proudly and utterly nude. Adela unconsciously sighed aloud with admiration at his form and the classmate seated next to her rolled his eyes dramatically in disgust.  

He shifted from one extended gesture to the next, pausing and holding in the midst of his movement. Pencil points quickly scratched on newsprint.  Adela couldn’t ogle as much as she would have liked, so she contented herself with capturing his movement, detailing the essence of his stance. She flipped her newsprint when the page grew cluttered with strokes and switched to charcoal for more expressive contours.  She focused on the curve of his shoulder, the bulge and swell of his work-hardened arms and scarred fingers during the longer poses. Once the forms were there, she grabbed finer vine charcoal and sketched in more details.  She stared intently at his form, forgetting for a moment who he was, engrossed in recording his body’s intimate details with her sketchpad.  

“Okay break time! Five minutes to stretch, knock some feeling into your legs and sharpen your pencils. We’re going to have group critique at the end--- Stop groaning at me!-- and you’re all expected to participate with some sort of thoughtful and intelligent comments. Oh just make them up, you big babies.” Professor Merrel chugged back his mug of lukewarm coffee and turned to Gideon. “Nice job up there. It looked like you were miming some heavy lifting and hammer work. It makes some really interesting muscle groups stand out. So how much do you have to work out to keep looking so... defined?”

Gideon draped himself with the robe and looked at Professor Merrel, puzzled. “I do work-- outside? It is very demanding work to split rock at the quarry, but if you want the right stone you have to do it yourself and not just trust the quarryman. They get lazy and will sometimes try to cheat you of the best materials.”

“Oh  _ really _ ? The stuff we purchase for sculpture class is split with pneumatic drills and saws. You like to do things the old-fashioned way?” 

Gideon smiled. “I should like to see your workshop and see if your new tools are so different from mine.”

Professor Merrel shrugged, “Eh, most of the tools haven’t changed much in a thousand years.” Gideon’s face brightened with interest. “Mallets, chisels and a straight edge, just a little carbide added to make the chisels tougher and hold their edge better. You’re welcome to visit the sculpture studio, that is if you’d like to pose a little for that class as well? We’d pay you, of course. Hmmm?” 

“Clothing is optional, I assume?” 

“Indeed, Mr. Mason. Adela can show you the way to the workshop, it’s the place where she split her thumb open with a mallet. You know, if I looked like you, I’d show up for up for work in short-shorts and a smile.” 

“Har. Har.” Adela chimed in. “Yeah I can show him the way.”  She watched her foundling gregariously laugh at something the Professor whispered and felt a tinge of jealousy. _Stupid, just stupid_ , she told herself. He doesn’t belong to me, no matter how many times he says it. He’s just lost in the world right now and soon he’ll find his bearings and fall deeply in love with some girl with a face full of makeup and a very tiny skirt. Or maybe a man in a pair of short-shorts? She watched him mournfully. _And I’ll be alone. Again_. 

_Snap out of it,_ she told herself. He’s about as devious as a puppy and I have no right to heap my piles of emotional crap on him. He can’t help that he’s so desirable. And I do want him, even if he’ll leave me. He ran his hand through his hair and laughed again, confident and natural in his near-nudity. 

Gideon tossed the pink robe aside and sat on the platform sat directly in front of Adela’s easel while Professor Merrel adjusted his limbs into an intriguing composition.  He raised his eyebrows at her and winked. She felt her blush start at her cheeks then blossom across her entire face. _Oh yeah_? she thought, challenged and stared right into his eyes, daring him to look away. She could get lost in those silvery grey eyes, tumble down into their depths and drown. 

_Damn his infinite patience_ , she thought.  He could wait for ages until she gathered up the courage to make an advance. She gazed slowly down his body as a woman, not as an artist. Oh yes, that was what had been pressed against her body in the cemetery, once covered in marble dust, barely able to stand. Now he was bathed only with spotlights, totally exposed and impressively comfortable in his skin, enjoying the simple acts of breathing, listening and... was he flirting with her?

“Draw!” Professor Merrel whispered in her ear and she squeaked and scribbled ferociously. “Nice energy in that doodle, let’s see what you can do with it.” He chuckled wickedly and continued on his rounds. 

Adela glanced up at Gideon who was impressively repressing his laughter, he winked again. She immersed herself in her favorite large format, incorporating her nervous squiggle into the shadows. By the end of the session, he was staring out at her from her paper, captured with charcoal. She would spray this one with fixative and display it proudly on her wall and hold on to it after he left her for his new life.  She swallowed hard and did not look back at him either on paper or on the platform. She was going to miss him so much, her stomach ached with grief.

Gideon got dressed while the class held the critique session. Most of the renderings were decently constructed and the truly awkward drawings were dissected piece by piece. 

He looked at the money that Professor Merrel put in his robe pocket. It was elaborate painted paper with a stern looking older man’s portrait encircled in scrolls. It was so delicate and fine, he had to squint to make out some of the details. He was so engrossed in the intricacies of the ink work that he startled a bit when Adela placed her hand on his shoulder. 

“Oh! Adela, look! This is so beautiful, look at the line work its so precise! It must take hours to make one of these. You use art as money? That’s  _ amazing. _ ” 

She looked at the images on the bill in his hands closely for perhaps the first time. “Well, we use machines to print these with ink on special paper made by the government.  They are beautifully engraved though. I’ve really never looked carefully at them.” She grinned conspiratorially, “Wanna see something cool?” She held the bill up to the light, “Look there, see the scowling man’s face? That’s called a watermark. That’s one of the ways you know it’s real money.” 

Gideon regarded the image in the paper. “One thing is the same in both our times. Men in power never smile in their portraits, ever.”  

“That’s because they can’t stand as still as you can and hold a smile at the same time.” She reclaimed her drawings and put her portfolio in order.  “Wanna go check out the sculpture studio? It’s just across the way.” She grabbed him by the arm and tugged him out the door.  She was going to make herself forget her inevitable loneliness. 

“They tend to clump all the art buildings together so we don’t mingle with the rest of the students and infect them with our silly ways. Except the architecture students, but they’re so sleep deprived that they just nap under their desks. Architecture is brutal. Art students just eat the the fruit from the still life set ups. See? This is the little park that runs behind the loud studios like metal-smithing and sculpture. The trees dampen the noise from the anvils and such...” She mindlessly chattered away, to disguise her nervousness as she reached for his hand. She had to hold his hand at least once more before he left her. She felt the horribly familiar gut wrenching pain of being abandoned, he didn't really love her. No one could really love her. She gently ran her fingers across his calloused palm and thrilled at the feeling of his fingers firmly interlocking with hers. 

She quite suddenly noticed an odd, cool slickness on his palm. She turned over his hand, stared and gasped in horror at the silver patch embedded in his skin. “It’s stone!”  

Gideon grew deathly pale, his face contorted in disbelief as he stared at his hand and sank to his knees in the dewy grass. “Oh no... It can’t be! The curse was lifted!” Tears streamed down his cheeks and he clawed at the small marble pebble, scratching desperately with his fingernails until both his hands were streaked with ribbons of blood. He savagely tried to bite it out with his teeth. The stone did not move, it was still fused with his flesh. “Adela, I don’t understand!” He sobbed, his shoulders heaving with great despairing cries. He covered his face with his hands, smearing his face with blood, murmuring a wordless prayer. 

Adela watched wide-eyed, her heart pounding and knelt beside him. She tenderly reached out her hand to his face. “It’ll be alright. It will. We’ll figure it out.” He clasped her hand against his cheek and held it there, silently gathering his composure. 

“Forgive me Adela,” he said in a strangled whisper. “I had so hoped that we---” She nearly burst into tears, but instead she helped him to his feet and they slowly walked together. Gideon felt heavier when he occasionally leaned upon her, surely that was just her imagination. She caught herself before she began chewing on her fingernails, because her hand was smeared with his blood. 

Concerned onlookers’ questions were answered with Adela’s terse, “Bike accident,” and a dismissive wave, as they made their way back to the apartment. “Bike accident! We’re fine thanks!” 

They entered the foyer and Marie stuck her head out of the kitchen. “Adela, you used up the milk --- _what the hell_? Are you bleeding? Oh my god, what happened?” 

“BIKE ACCIDENT!” Adela screamed, and pushed Gideon into her room towards the shower, then slammed the door shut in her very confused roommate’s face. 


	7. Chapter 7

 

Gideon stared out at the stars from Adela’s window. They were anemic against the glow of streetlights, pale imitations of the constellations he remembered. He looked down at his hand. The bandages covered what he knew was still there. He flexed his hand, feeling the sting of the wounds. He forced the panic swelling again in his chest deep down. He clenched his fist. He was not going to wail like an infant again and rob Adela of her slumber. He looked over at Adela. She had fallen asleep in her rumpled clothing again. She had been so stoic, so strong, but he knew that she cried while he was in the shower. Her eyes were red and her nose chapped, but she still pretended nothing was wrong.  He felt deeply ashamed of making her despair, he never wanted to hurt her. 

The door to her room cracked open and Marie, backlit by the hall light, gestured emphatically at him to come with her. He quietly followed, shutting the door behind him.

Marie sat on the couch and curled her legs underneath her. She patted the couch next to her and said in a firm voice, “Sit.”

Gideon obliged and had a sudden surge of impending dread as Marie leaned forward and looked him straight in the eyes. “What was that about today?”

He foundered for an answer and mumbled, “Bike... accident?” The falsehood made his mouth go dry.

“Gideon, I don’t think that was a bike accident. Adela can’t ride a bike, she’s got some inner ear thingy and I don’t think you even know what a bicycle  _ is _ . So if you are going to live in my home, with my friend, then we’re going to have a nice long talk about what exactly happened today. Where was all that blood from?” 

Gideon extended his injured hand, “It was my blood. I was injured.”

“How?” 

“I scratched myself. Deeply.” He peeled back the bandage and showed her the barely clotted wounds around the marble.  “I was trying to remove... that thing.” 

“What is that? A bone? It looks like a skipping stone.”

“It is marble. It is a part of my hand. I believe it is growing larger. Growing back to eventually cover my whole body in a cocoon of marble.” His voice trailed off in despair. 

“Growing out of your skin? No way. ” She grabbed his hand and tried to pull the pebble off with her fingers to no avail. “Hold on. I’ve got a plan.” She dug in her toolbox for a pair of pink floral rubber-handled locking vise-grip pliers. 

“Always have to be prepared for any sort of plumbing emergency. This might hurt a bit. Want me to try pulling with these?” He nodded assent.  She doused the pliers with rubbing alcohol. They looked for a free edge, but it was fused to his palm seamlessly. Gideon pinched the jaws of the pliers around the stone, the jaws digging deep into his flesh until he firmly attached them. Marie yanked with her full strength while Gideon pulled back while sitting on the carpet.  The stone would not budge no matter how hard they pulled. He replaced the bandage on his bloody wounds and gripped his fist tightly around it, as if he could physically squeeze the object away. 

“ _Magic_. Huh. Sorry if I hurt you.” She rinsed off the bloody pliers in the sink. 

“Even the most tremendous pain is more welcome than the suffocating embrace of my curse. I thank you for trying to aid me.” Gideon looked very tired and his face was devoid of hope.

Marie closed her eyes, sighed and rubbed her hands on her temples. “So wait, I have to think. Adela dragged me into the cemetery to see  _ skin _ on a statue. I saw nothing, so I thought she was on drugs and that night- “ Marie opened her eyes and slowly said, “She brought you home from the cemetery. ” 

Gideon nodded. “She freed me from inside that gargoyle.”

“But, why couldn’t I see you too?”

He shrugged, “It wasn’t your blood sacrifice I suppose, but I cannot know for certain. The curse obviously appears to be returning. I fear that I will be encased in stone again and trapped.” He crossed his massive arms against his bare chest and shivered. “I am very afraid, Marie. I spent so many years in that prison and if I go back, I shall go mad. I would rather die than be driven insane. I want to be here, in this marvelous world. I want to stay with Adela. We’re connected by her blood sacrifice and,“ a smile crept upon his lips, “Many one-sided conversations.”

Marie stood up and without a word went to the refrigerator and popped the top off of a beer. She took a very long swallow and came back to the couch. “Want one?” She pointed at the beer. 

“I do not eat or drink, Marie. I have no desire to and appear to have no need as well.”

“Magical hocus pocus, I suppose.” She swigged again. “I suppose seeing a freaking  _ doctor  _ is out of the question. This is really incredibly weird, I just have to add that.”

“Or I never truly was freed from the curse. The sorcerer who cursed me said that my freedom required a virtuous woman to love me and anoint me with her blood of her own free will. Perhaps,” he took a deep breath, and in a quavering whisper said, “Perhaps Adela does not love me. I cannot force, cajole or guilt her into loving me, even to remain free. And I would not dishonor her.” 

Marie cocked an eyebrow and drained the rest of her beer. “Does she even know that her feelings are a requirement for your staying all fleshy? I have to remind her to pay rent  _ every  _ month. Have you talked to her? At all? Have you even kissed her yet? She certainly looks at you like she wants to kiss you!” She tossed the bottle into recycling. “And that’s one hell of a crappy fairy tale curse. You have to get a  _ virtuous _ , “ she rolled the word in her mouth like it had a foul flavor, “Woman to fall madly in love with you and sprinkle blood on you? And what the hell does her virtue have to do with anything?” She scoffed, “Good luck trying to find a virgin at college,  just like looking for a unicorn! Hell, maybe unicorns exist too, but I know for damn sure that if you needed a virgin to bloody you up then Adela certainly wouldn’t have worked. You know about Jeremy, right?” 

Gideon narrowed his eyes with contempt and said, “Oh yes,  _ Jeremy.  _ Yes, I listened to her sob about that whoring whelp for many months at a time when I was trapped.  I know her very well from our many conversations and confessionals in the cemetery.” He crossed his muscular arms. “Adela’s virtue has never been in question. Perhaps the sorcerer meant an honorable woman of great strength, compassion, grace and courage!” 

Marie stifled a laugh at his intensity, flopped back on the couch and smiled wickedly at him. She gestured at him with her foot.  “Do you want me to try dribbling a little blood on you?”

* * *

 

Adela awoke from her uneasy dozing on the bed , unfastened her bra and drew it out the sleeve of her t-shirt, rubbing the skin where the underwires gouged her.  She looked over the edge of the bed and was confused to find an empty sleeping bag. Gideon wasn’t there. _Odd_. He usually laid on the floor all night looking at textbooks with a book light or would be looking out the window, leaning against the windowsill. _I better find him_ , she thought.

She stumbled out to the hall, rubbing her eyes. Just as Adela was about to call out for Gideon, she noticed a light on in the living room. She moved closer and could hear Gideon’s deep voice and Marie’s laughter. She stopped just outside the door frame; Adela peeked around and watched as Marie sat on the couch beside bare-chested, boxer-clad Gideon. She jolted awake when she heard Marie say,  “Do you want me to try dribbling a little blood on you? You know maybe it could work. Maybe I’m the virtuous woman that the dirty old wizard had in mind...?”

Adela’s heart wrenched. She felt betrayed, utterly alone and dejected. She tried to sink silently back into the hallway, but accidentally jostled a doorknob with her elbow.

Marie heard the rattle and saw Adela hiding awkwardly in the shadow of the door like a small child. “I should be getting to sleep. This whole situation is just too freaky weird, I’m not sure I even believe it. There has got to be a logical, medical answer for your skin condition. ” Marie rubbed her eyes.

“Hun, we were talking about his little magical problem. I couldn’t yank that stone in his hand out.” Marie yawned again. “I am so freaking tired and this is too weird. We’ll talk over dinner tomorrow night. Some of us have real classes to attend and I can’t use ‘magical shenanigans’ as an excuse for flunking.”  Marie got up and mock-whispered with beery breath in Adela’s ear, “I guess you weren’t on drugs after all.”  Then she retired to her room with a chuckle, thoroughly amused at the chaos she had caused. Gideon stood up, extended his hand and drew Adela into the room to sit on the couch beside him.

Adela and Gideon stared at each other for a while, mutually flummoxed into silence. Adela, starting to gnaw on a fingernail, ventured awkwardly,  “I’m sorry I’m insecure, I shouldn’t have been jealous.  I mean,” she gulped and shrugged, “ You don’t belong to me and we don’t have a relationship or anything like that...” She looked at the carpet and scrunched her toes into the pile. “We’re not a couple or anything like that, I guess that if you want to, you know, see other girls that would be ok--” The words strangled in her throat when Gideon stood up, his eyes filled with infinite sadness. He took her hand, drew her close and wrapped her in his tender embrace.

He held her very close to his chest and in a low, rumbling voice said, “I am not interested in seeing other girls.” Gideon lifted her chin with his rough fingers, and gazed into her eyes, then gently caressed her flushed cheek.

Adela saw that there was another spidery ribbon of silvery grey stone on his forehead, trailing down to his neck from his temple. “Gideon, there’s more marble on your...”   

“Adela, it does not concern me now. ”  He cupped her face with his wholly human hand and leaned his forehead against hers with his eyes closed. His voice was soft and low, full of old pain and loneliness. “I have been alone for too many years with only my own thoughts for company.” Gideon drew back so he could look in her eyes, his voice gained strength as he attempted to convey his feelings to her,  ” You did more than save me from my marble prison, you saved me from going mad, Adela .  Please, if I might ask one more boon of you.”  

“Yes... of course.”

“If I return to my gruesome state, that you will keep me somewhere where I can see you everyday. Somewhere you can visit me. I wanted to be with you as you grow old, Adela. I wanted to see your hair gently turn grey, to share your years, to have a future with you.  I wanted to watch you achieve all of those dreams that you confessed in my ears. If I can't share your life, if I can't grow old with you," he cupped her face in his large hand, then stroked her dark hair, "Then I would be content to be a silent witness, watching over you always. I do not wish to abandon you, my love. My dearest one, my lonely heart's match."  

He captured her lips in a firm, yet gentle kiss that built in intensity the longer their lips touched. She clung close to his body. They explored the contours of each others’ bodies with feverish urgency. His cold stone encrusted palm slid up her arm, across her shoulder and nestled at the back of her neck, making her shiver with anticipation.

He looked in her heavy-lidded eyes for permission to proceed and she nodded assent, then cautiously, the marble in his palm finally warm to the touch, he slipped his hand over her thin t-shirt clad breast. His other fingers caressed her face and they kissed deeply, breathing heavily. Gideon nuzzled in her hair, inhaling the sweet scent of her skin, committing the scent to memory. She wound her fingers in his silver-shot locks and twisted them about her fingers.

Adela clung to his chest and ran her hands up and down his skin, savoring each moment. “I wanted to do this during that life drawing class, to touch you like this.” She traced the silvery veins that spider-webbed his skin.

“I was counseled to tell you how I feel about you, but I have no pretty words to describe the depths of my devotion. I am yours, if you will have me?” Gideon’s gaze was full of hope.

Adela looked him straight in the eyes, “Yes...” She nuzzled his soft hair, it smelled like sunshine and soap. She leaned her head against his neck, the stone cool against her cheek.  “Gideon, I’m very selfish. I’m needy and whiny, mostly broken in all the ways that count. You really don’t know me that well. But I will never let you be alone,--” she gasped as his clever calloused fingers traced down her body. “No matter what shape you take!" She felt in her heart now that he would never betray her, never willingly hurt her. He kissed the soft skin at the base of her throat, savoring the salty sweet melding of her scent.

“May I know you Adela, as a man would know a woman? May I have the memory of you and I together to comfort me in my loneliness?” He brushed her flushed skin with small fluttering kisses.

“Oh yes, please.” Adela wriggled and impatiently pressed herself against his chest. He groaned and hoisted her with his massive arms in one swift motion, grinned and carried her into her bedroom. She squealed in surprise, kicking her feet in the air.  They closed the door behind them with a kick of her foot. He did not notice that the ribbons of silvery-grey stone embedded in his neck were cracking and crumbling into flakes of grainy dust.  

 


	8. Epilogue

 

Gideon lifted off his safety goggles, ran his filthy hands through his sweaty, stone dust coated hair and smiled, satisfied at his handiwork. He often lost track of time in the pleasure of creation. “All done,” he whispered to the curled sandstone capital. It perfectly matched the rest of the capitals in the museum’s interior gallery restoration.  He leisurely put away his chisels and mallets in the carving workshop, while humming a very old song to himself.

He reflected on his good fortune while tidying up the workbench. He was the Master Carver at Restoration Arts Inc. specializing in high quality stone commissions and decorative masonry.  Even in this time people appreciated his skills from the past. _Lucky for me_ , _I was not a goatherd_ , he mused.   

He touched a wide gold ring hanging on a chain around his neck which protected it from stray mallet blows and heavy machinery.  Every day he awoke next to a snoring Adela and reminded himself that this day was perfect just because of that. His hand felt suddenly very stiff. He rinsed off his hands in the sink, new streaks of grey marble extended up his palms. “What is she mad about now?” he muttered. Whenever his beloved Adela’s mood plummeted he inevitably developed patches of stone. He had been nearly petrified several times these last nine months. He had unending patience, but he was grateful that the ordeal was nearly over. He should probably check on her.

Gideon fished his cell phone out of his jacket pocket, he didn’t like having the noisy little beast buzzing and chirping in his pants pocket, and read the messages. 

“Hi, feeling okay, I’m so big. Sorry, can’t help feeling crappy.... love you.”

“I think I need to talk to you on your break. Okay, love ya!”

“Call me!”

“Really need to talk to you!”

“ANSWER THE DAMN PHONE”

“Hospital _NOW_!”

By the time he reached the maternity ward, Gideon was unable to bend his left knee. Adela was a sweaty, angry pile of hugely pregnant woman and she glared daggers at him. “Forget your phone AGAIN?”

He sheepishly nodded and stroked her forehead with his hand. “Sorry. I am here now though. It is getting hard to walk Adela... I think my foot has petrified.”

Adela gritted her teeth through another contraction. “Then I hope you enjoy the show, ‘cause you’re not going anywhere!” She clutched his arm, squeezing as hard as she could. “Right now, you are not my favorite person in the world!” She huffed and puffed, miming focused breathing. “This is all total bullshit!”

Later that night, Gideon could not move his legs at all and his arms were lined with rivelets of marble, but his eyes still filled with happy tears.

Adela looked up at her dumbstruck husband and smiled, her arms full of newborn baby girl. She chuckled wearily, exhausted. “Looks like we’re going to have to wait for a few minutes for Daddy to thaw before he can hold you. Sorry about that, Gideon.” Adela yawned in spite of herself. "But not sorry."

With a great creaking, cracking groan Gideon flexed and stretched his arms free. Dust and small shards of stone struck the linoleum floor. He tenderly took his child in his massive arms and held her as carefully as if she were made of glass. “Leda. Her name should be Leda. Leda means happiness.” He counted all her fingers and toes. The baby quietly looked up at him with silvery grey eyes. “See that little one.” He turned the baby to face her mother. “That’s your Mother. Before her, my life was a lifeless as stone. But since she found me, she has brought me to life in more ways than I ever imagined.” Leda squirmed in his arms. “Happiness. _Yes_. Every day.”  


End file.
